


Anything But Normal: The Rewrite

by Viridian_Compass



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Mystery, OC's for days - Freeform, Reader Is Not Frisk, Rewrite, reader is female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10234451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian_Compass/pseuds/Viridian_Compass
Summary: You woke up screaming, grasping at the blankets. You remember him comforting you, telling you it would be ok. “It’s ok, I’m here. You don’t need to worry. It was just a dream.” He whispered as you sobbed into his sweater. You cried yourself to sleep on his chest that night. No matter how many times you were reassured that it was all a dream, you still had this nagging feeling in the back of your head. Telling you that it was not just a nightmare. That they were memories.





	1. Define Normal

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of this story, so if you read the original many things have changed. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

This is, by no means, a “normal” day, no matter how you put it. You wake up to your dog barking at the back door of the apartment. Looking out the curtains, you see the research facility a couple blocks away explode in a bright light. Temporarily blinded by the light, and a ringing in your ears, you accidentally stumble into some broken glass, cutting your palm. You realize the windows must have shattered from the shockwave. Gretta, your dog, is cowering on the floor with her paws over her ears. You try to comfort her and call into your work.

It turns out that the blast radius is much larger than you thought, and most of the city is shut down to clean up all the broken glass. You silently curse, because your hand is still bleeding and it stings. You thank your boss for letting you have the day off, and hang up.

With a sigh, you attempt to pick the glass out of your hand. You find some gauze in the bathroom, and wrap the wound the best you can. You gently pet Gretta between the ears, calming her down. Sighing, you pour yourself a cup of coffee, groaning at the amount of broken glass on the floor. Grabbing a broom, you sweep up the worst of it.  You thank your deity, for the miracle that is laminate flooring. You cringe, imagining the pain it would be if you hadn’t gotten the carpet replaced last spring. Your phone starts ringing in your back pocket, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. With a trembling hand, you pick it up.

“He-Hello? Oh! Hey Gwen, how are you? I'm fine, but I cut my hand a little on the glass from my windows. Yeah. Where are you? One sec, somebody's at the door.”

You put your phone down and answer the door to see Gwen’s smiling face beaming down on you. She is a tall woman with short, blue hair. She is wearing a form-fitting black tank top with capris and sneakers.

“Gwen! When you said you were close, I didn't think you were literally on my doorstep. Come in! Sorry for the mess, I was just cleaning.”

“Don't sweat it. I came to see if you were ok!” She removes her black runners and steps inside. “Also, the city is a total mess! Pretty much every breakable item in town is busted!” She gingerly grabs your palm and looks at it. “No, this is all wrong. Do you have more gauze? I’ll rewrap it for you.”

You give her a weak smile and lead her to where you left out the first aid kit. She sits you down at the table and properly dresses your palm. You wince a little when she cleans the wound, but other than that Gwen wraps it much better than you had.

“I guess going to medical school is really paying off, huh?” You look down at your hand, now newly bandaged. It feels a lot better, now that it's wrapped properly.

“It's hard, but yeah. It's really paying off. I'm so glad I decided to go into the medical field, especially so I can be around to patch up your clumsy ass, eh?” She lets out a hearty laugh. You laugh back, the two of you hugging each other and laughing. This goes on for a few minutes, until Gwen smacks you on the back, winding you. “Let's get this mess cleaned up, shall we? Do you have any spare garbage bags? We need to cover your windows.”

You grab some garbage bags from under the sink, and you dig through your desk to find the packing tape you bought last Christmas to wrap presents. You chuckle to yourself at the memory of Gwen needing a knife to open the box. Heading back out into the living room, you chuck the roll of tape at your friend. “Do you think we should use clear bags or garbage bags? I have both, and I'd rather have light in my house.”

Gwen nods, thinking for a moment. “You have a point, let's use the clear ones. I hope you have enough though, you have a lot of windows.” You get to work putting the clear recycling bags over your windows, and when you finish you step back and admire your handiwork. An alarm goes off loudly on your phone, causing you to jump and cling to Gwen before turning it off.

Both of you stand there silently, staring at the phone in your hand. After a couple moments of intense silence, you both burst out laughing. “Leave it to you to set your alarm so loud that you scare yourself, eh?” Gwen gently punches you in the shoulder, teasing you for being so jumpy. 

“Hey, I can't help it if I leave my phone in odd places and can't hear my sounds otherwise! It's a bad habit I picked up long ago.” You rub your shoulder. “Excuse me for a minute, I need to do what that alarm is set to remind me to do.” You walk into the bathroom and open the cabinet behind the mirror. Looking at yourself, you realize you look like crap. Your hair is disheveled and messy, and your shirt is wrinkled and stained. Upon further investigation of your body, you spot minor cuts and bruises all over your legs from cleaning up the glass.

Among the new cuts are some long healed scars you want to forget about. Lumpy, parallel lines run across the front of your thighs, and you suddenly panic at the notion that you are wearing shorts.

You hope Gwen didn't notice, as you hadn't come clean about your past yet. You don't want her to worry about you more than she already does, and you don't think you're ready to admit to everything you'd done to yourself just yet. Reminding yourself why you are in the bathroom, you pull out a box with the days of the week labelled on the segments. You open the one for today, and swallow the 3 small pills inside. The cup of water you keep beside the sink helps you wash down the horrible tasting medication.

There's a loud bang in the kitchen, and after your heart restarts, you rush in to see Gwen guiltily picking up pots and pans. “What the heck are you doing? You look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.” You let out a sigh of relief that she didn't hurt herself. She is the one with medical experience, not you.

Sheepishly, she finishes putting them away and puts a pot in the sink to fill with water. “I wanted to make some food, seeing as I figured you hadn't eaten yet. I tried to get a pot out, but you booby trapped the cupboard! You need to learn how to stack these things better.” You blush, muttering about how you can navigate your cupboards just fine, and lean against the doorframe in a way that conceals your legs.

“Thank you, for helping me out so much. I don't know what I'd do without you. Also, what are you making?” You walk behind her and fill a measuring cup with some kibble to feed Gretta. You dump it in the bowl with some leftover meat from the night before, and place it on the mat next to her water bowl. You realize that Gretta had seemed to understand that you and Gwen were working, and had stayed quiet and out of the way.

“Don't sweat it, I do this because I care about you. I'm making spaghetti, by the way. I figured I'll make enough so you have leftovers for the next few days, cause I know your cooking habits and how lazy you can be.” She gestures at you intimidatingly with a spatula, stirring some spices into a sauce and cooking the ground meat in the process. “I feel like you don't eat right, so I can't help taking care of you. Besides. Spaghetti is good for the soul! You look like you could use some soul food.”

You laugh quietly, avoiding responding to her comment. You call your dog over, and pet her gently when she comes over. She is a beautiful Samoyed-Husky mix, with the Husky genes being more prominent. You love how soft her fur was, but not how much she sheds. Everything you own is covered in little grey hairs. It's a miracle that you keep your floor from creating a dog fur rug, but once again it is due to the miracle of laminate flooring.

“Hey Gwen, I'm gonna go change into pants. My legs are getting a little cold, and I'm in the mood for something comfy.” She nods, and you head to your room to change out your gym shorts for sweatpants. You zip up your favorite blue hoodie, and shuffle into the living room.

Plopping down in your reading chair, you groan slightly. You accidentally bump a particularly bad bruise and swear under your breath. Gwen pokes her head out of the kitchen, a concerned look on her face. “Hey, is everything alright?”

You nod, waving your hand in her general direction. “I'm fine, it just feels good to sit down.”  She raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not convinced. She shrugs it off after a moment, and then flexes her arms in what seem to be a power pose. “Whatever you say, nerd. Food's done, I put most of it in the fridge.” She returns to the kitchen, and grabs two plates. You stretch out sideways in the chair, laying your head on the armrest.

“Say, did you see the news yesterday? There was that story about the peace conference at City Hall.” She places a plate down on the end table, with delicious-looking spaghetti. Damn, that woman can cook.

“Actually, yeah I did. That was the Monster conference, wasn’t it? I seem to remember something about the opening of the new villa specially equipped for monsters. Wasn’t their King talking to reporters about it?” You sit up, taking a bite of the pasta. It is like a miniature explosion of flavour, each bite better than the last.

“I'm just glad that it's going as well as it is for them. The monsters seem like they've been through a lot. You know, have you ever thought about visiting one of the monster settlements?” Gwen gestures her fork in your direction. “I wonder if it's any different than human neighborhoods. Either way-” she shrugs, putting her own plate down, “I'm just glad they can finally expand.”

You nod. Between bites, you wonder how she can care so much for people so different, without really knowing them. You suppose that's why she got into medicine. Personally, you don't have an opinion on the monster situation, but it still makes you curious. “How long has it been now? Since the monsters emerged from Ebott. I've been so busy I guess I didn't notice….” You grab the remote, flopping sideways in the oversized recliner.

“I think it's almost been a year? I'm not sure, I think I was out of town when it happened.” You both finish eating while a reporter talks about the damage done throughout the city, and how the repair crews should have most of the glass replaced by the end of the week. The reporter talks to one of the workers who says that with the help of monster magic, the work is going much faster than they anticipated. After a while, Gwen looks at her phone and realizes she has to go.

You see her out the door, both of you petting your dog before she leaves. Shutting the door behind her, you sigh. You stretch, walking down the hallway to your closet. You cry at the sight of your floor-length mirror, still somehow intact. That thing was the only thing left of your Father, and it was expensive.

You undress and get into the shower, letting the water wash over your tired body. The hot water helps you clear your head, and you remember your discarded coffee sitting on the kitchen counter. You grimace at the thought of drinking it now. After you get out of the shower, you put your pants and hoodie back on. You put the dishes in the dishwasher and turn it on. Sitting down in your reading chair, you drink a fresh cup of coffee. Setting the mug down on the coffee table, you settle down under a blanket. With the sun’s heat warming you, you fall asleep.


	2. The Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Panic attack warning, if you aren't comfortable reading that sort of stuff then feel free to jump to the end. I'll include a short summary so you won't miss anything.

_It's dark. You feel your feet on a ground you cannot see. The darkness around you is suffocating, but you walk forward nonetheless._

_Every step is a struggle, but something is pressing you onwards. Through the inky blackness, you spot light in the distance. It grows as you trudge your way closer, and eventually you have to cover your eyes to keep from going blind._

_When you can see again, you are surrounded by bowls of spaghetti. There is a pot in the sky, pouring pasta down onto the ground below._

_“Woah.” You walk towards the river of sauce, and taste it. Hm. Tastes just like Gwen's. From somewhere, your dog bounds up to you, albeit at a much smaller size. You pet her excitedly, her tail wagging a mile a minute. She pushes you onto your back, and starts licking your face._

_You laugh, her tongue tickling you. You continue like this for a span of time before Gretta starts growing. She grows and grows, becoming large enough to cover your whole body. Her weight presses into you, pushing the air from your lungs. You struggle to push her off your chest, to will some air into your lungs._

_Your vision starts to fade around the edges, and you black out._

When you startle awake from your nap, Gretta is laying on top of you. You groan, and gently push her towards the floor. She seems to be getting heavier. When she safely lands and pads to your room, you stand up. Looking out the window, you see it's dark outside. You have a bit of a crick in your neck from sleeping funny, but you stretch it a few times, causing it to pop back into place. “Oh jeez, that feels good.”

You consider walking to the facility to see if you could figure out what happened, but decide against it. “I guess I should sleep in my actual bed so I won’t mess up my body any further…” The only problem was, you couldn’t sleep. Naturally, your first idea was to watch something online. You did pay for a streaming service, you may as well use it. “What to watch…”

The beep of your microwave calls you back to reality, and you realize you spaced out again. It's been happening more often recently, where you just stop being aware of your surroundings, only to come back somewhere you don’t remember going to. “Hold on, I don’t remember putting popcorn in the microwave in the first place.” You shrug, cause hey, popcorn is popcorn, whether it was made consciously or not.

Its around 2 am by the time you finally turn off the tv and head toward your bedroom. You decide to clean up tomorrow, as your eyes were drooping a considerable amount and you’d fallen asleep during the last 2 episodes of your favourite show. You call a gentle goodnight to your dog, and flop onto your bed. Sleep comes quickly and deeply. This rest would be dreamless.

***

3 Weeks Later

6am comes way too early. Groaning, you roll over and try to smack your alarm clock to get it to stop going off. The clock unfortunately falls off your bedside table and continues ringing, vibrating itself further away from your bed. Throwing off the covers and chasing after it, you press the button between the bells to cease its infernal ringing. It was a classic round alarm clock with two bells on the top and a tiny hammer that swung between them. The face was printed with some children’s cartoon meant for a seven year old boy, but it worked and it was a gift from Gwen from when you moved in. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it, but still felt a little bit of distaste each morning when it woke you.

Remembering that you needed to go in for your shift, you shuffle out into the living room. You open your new windows, letting in the cool morning breeze. Passing your charging phone, you notice the blinking light of a new voicemail. You decide to listen to it, putting it on speaker and setting it on the counter so you could make coffee. It was from your employer, from about 11 last night. “Weird, I don’t remember hearing it ring.” You shrug.

_“Hey, it’s Amanda. I just wanted to call you to let you know that somebody came by the store yesterday asking for you. I told them you weren’t here, but they seemed persistent to know where you were. I’m worried about you, so just be careful during your shift tomorrow. I’m not going to be there because I had something come up last minute, so I left Thomas in charge. Just ask him if you need anything. Be safe!”_

Once you thought about it, you realize that you had seen a figure lurking around your work, but they were never close enough to be a nuisance. You feel a pang of fear in your chest, realizing that the figure could be a stalker. Suddenly dreading the morning shift, you get ready as slowly as you can while still being on time. You grab your thermos of coffee and your lunch, and head out to the bus stop. The sun was starting to rise, so at least you weren’t walking in the dark. As you get to your stop, you hear a little voice in your head.

**Somebody's taken an interest in us. You know, I could take care of them for us if you just give me control.**

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat. You haven’t heard the voice in a while, but decide not to give it a response. If the voice was active, that meant something bad was coming. Dread settles in the pit of your stomach as you board the bus.

***

Arriving at work, the first thing you notice is that there’s an unfamiliar car parked in the employee parking lot. You decide to forget it for now, heading inside to set up. Greeting your co-workers, you walk out onto the floor.  According to your watch, the store would open in 15 minutes. Once everything is in place, you open the doors. Your shift for today was at the front register, which meant that you could keep an eye on most of the front area.

“Hey, ?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin when your coworker says your name, coming up behind you. “Thomas! You startled me! Don’t do that please, I’m really tense today.” Leaning against the counter for support, you tell him about Amanda’s message. He gives you a concerned look, and puts his hand on your shoulder.

“I know, she told me. Listen. I’ve seen this person lurking in the store. I almost kicked them out for loitering, but they also weren’t causing any trouble so I couldn’t really do anything. Never forget you have people looking out for you, because everyone here has your back. We’re a family. I’ve got Lindsay on watch for this person, so take it easy today. Don’t push yourself.”

You nod, smiling a little. Thomas lets go, and you turn back around. A bit later, a customer comes up to the register. You ring them through, putting on your best retail smile. You hope it will be a normal day, so you could take it easy like Thomas said.

But then the voice pipes up. 

**We can’t trust them. They don’t really care about us, all they want to do is use us. Trust me, and give me control. Let me drive for a while, and I promise we won’t regret it. I’ll get back at all those people who hurt us.**

You think you visibly tense, because the voice has a hint of malice in it. However, you can’t allow it to get loose.

_No. I know that they care. Even if I’ve been hurt in the past, things are different now. I have friends, who want to stay by your side. I have people who have your back. I won’t let you take that away from me!_

**Fine. But if you ever lose yourself, I’ll take control. Know that I’ll always be here, whether you like it or not. And when you finally give up, say goodbye to your so-called ‘friends’. They’ll only abandon us. Everyone else did.**

You grip the counter, hard. You didn’t want to remember your past, not now. “You just have to make it through your shift, and then you can go home.”

The thought that your friends are looking out for you fills you with determination.

***

You’re just about to finish your shift when it happens. The figure comes in, sees you and tries to hide. Lindsay notices them and starts to monitor the situation. They wait for about five minutes before coming over to where you are with a black sweater in their arms. As you ring them through, the figure speaks. It’s a low voice, hard and gritty like sandpaper.

“Are you ?”

You hesitate.

“Yes… That’s me. Might I ask why?”

“That doesn’t matter," the figure snaps. "How much for the sweater?”

You bring up the total, and you feel yourself starting to sweat. This person was bad news, but you can’t act just yet. You need to keep them here until Lindsay can help. But you can’t see her. Where did she go?

“$22.50. Cash, debit or credit?”

They reach into their backpack, but instead of a wallet they pull out a gun. Pointing it at you, they speak. “Sorry sweetcheeks, you’re paying for this one. Put your hands where I can see ‘em!”

You hear screaming from around the store and multiple people running away. You hope someone is calling the police. You aren’t prepared for this. Of everything that could happen, it has to be this. Your training briefly covered armed robbery, but no simulation is the same as the real thing. You start to hyperventilate. Your chest constricts, sending pains through your body. You feel dizzy. Now is the worst possible time for a panic attack, you need to run away! Even though it had been more than 12 years, you still relive that day from time to time. The anniversary is approaching, but here you are again, stuck at gunpoint.

Your mind begins to shut down, going steadily into a panic mode. Tears trail steadily down your face as you stumble back. You need to stay calm. You try to focus on your breathing, to slow it down, but it's difficult. Then it occurs to you. There is a button on the floor for this kind of situation.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Open the register, and empty it into the damn bag. I’m sure you people know the drill.” They tilt their head, sounding amused but irritated. It just makes you more afraid. You try to duck under the register, to hit the button, but something grabs your collar and stops you. The figure vaults over the counter and grabs you into a headlock. They point the gun at your head, standing you both up. You whimper.

“Everybody on the ground! Do it or I’ll shoot her! NOW!” You watch with fear in your eyes as the people within earshot all get down. Your eyes squeeze shut, the panic returning in full force. You spot Lindsay for a fleeting moment, creeping toward the register. You aren't confident anyone is coming to help you. By the time the police get here it will be too late. You can’t believe it. You are going to die here. Alone.

You hear the swishing of the front doors opening, and feel that you might have a fraction of a chance. Maybe it’s the police! But when you open your eyes, you are met with a peculiar sight, blurred by your tears. Two skeletons had just walked into the store, unaware of the situation. It occurs to you that you might of missed the button or hit the wrong one, because it should have locked the doors. The thought makes you want to vomit.

The shorter of the two skeletons stops mid-conversation and looks over, sudden realization darting over his face. He shoves the taller one behind him, his left eye turning blue. The room begins to prickle, and the next thing you know, all of the lights in the store go out. You hear the sound of a single gunshot and feel a searing pain go through your shoulder. The figure drops you as you scream, and you slump to the ground.

The last thing you remember seeing before losing consciousness is Lindsay rushing to your side with a panicked expression, phone in hand. “Stay with me, please! No, don’t pass out, please,  nononononono no……”

Her voice trails off into sobs as you lose consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, another chapter! S2g this thing will be the end of me and yet I love it every step of the way. There will probably be another chapter in like a week or so as I get back into the flow of writing again, but I wouldn't count on it. When it inevitably happens, see you there!
> 
> Summary: You encounter a suspicious figure at work after your inner demons speak up. The figure robs the store with a gun, triggering your phobia and sending you into a panic attack. Two skeleton brothers show up and attempt to stop the figure, but the figure shoots you in the shoulder. You pass out.


	3. Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some music to help set the mood :3c
> 
> https://youtu.be/5DNl22MvaNo

_ August 15th, 20XX. The day you lose everything. Your hopes, your dreams, your family. Everything. _

_ The teasing has been going on for a while. People make fun of your sister for being from a poor family, but it doesn’t bother her at first. It is just words in the beginning, but it soon escalates. She doesn’t realize how bad it is until they start going after you. They beat you up, call you names and throw things at you. She is older than you, and shoulders the burden of working 3 part-time jobs. Both of your parents work too, but you are deep in debt and can’t afford much. It doesn’t bother you, because you have your family and that is all you need to be happy. _

_ It isn’t the same for your Mother though. She tries to be happy, to be strong for you. But when she gets sick, you don’t have the money for treatment. She has to quit her job, putting more pressure on your Dad and Sister. The day you turn 12, you are going to apply for a paper route to help out. Unfortunately, that day never comes. _

_ Your mother passes 2 months before your birthday. Your Dad falls into depression and turns to alcohol to cope. Your sister was much closer to your Mom than you were, so it hurts her more than you. Your home situation gets steadily worse after that, with your Dad basically shutting down. It causes your sister to take on another job, so she is never home. You barely see her or your Dad, but they argue any time they are in the same room. It’s always about money, or his drinking, or Mom. Your birthday is approaching fast, and you know your sister is trying to save up for something special. _

_ *** _

_ Returning from your friend’s house, you practically skip home. You hum a tune to yourself that Mom taught you, a huge smile on your face. When you turn the corner before your house, you can immediately tell something is off. The car is in the driveway. Your sister’s shift isn’t supposed to end for another 2 hours. You hurry closer to the house. You can hear raised voices coming from inside. This is a normal sound, to hear them arguing, but this sounds more serious. You open the door, walking into the living room. “Dad, Ana! I’m home!” you call. The arguing only gets louder. _

_ What you see from the doorway will haunt you for the rest of your life. _

_ Your Father stands over your sister with a gun in his hand. Both of them are crying, but your Father has a crazed look in his eye. It seems he finally snapped. Losing your Mother completely destroyed him. You stand in the doorway, frozen in fear as the man who was once your Father fires the gun. You scream as your sister’s body slumps to the floor, her bloody hand reaching to you. With her last dying breath, she whispers your name. Her eyes become blank and lifeless.  _

_ He then turns to you, pointing the gun your way. You turn around and run upstairs, slamming and locking the door to the hallway. You run into your room, grabbing your wallet and some clothes. You shove them into your backpack, hands trembling and tears falling from your eyes. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. _

_ You grab your keepsakes from your shelf, making sure to protect the picture of your Mother. You need to leave, to get to safety, but you can’t go just yet. With a quick sweep of the other rooms, you grab some other small items. You pause in front of your sister’s room. A small gift sits on the bed. Gingerly picking it up, you sprint into the final room. His. You hear the hall door burst open, and the sound of liquid pouring on the ground. It smells like gasoline. You hide in the closet, hoping He will not find you here. Your hand brushes against something cold and metallic. _

_ Your hand trembles as you bring it into the light. The pistol in your hand is loaded. You muffle your scream with your other hand as it drops onto the floor, landing on a pile of clothing. You stumble from the closet toward the window, forcing it open and pushing out the screen. It seems people are gathering around your house. You struggle to climb out, but a creak of the floor makes you freeze. He stands in the doorway, blood on his hands and tears in his eyes. _

_ Time seems to stop as he points the gun at you once more. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart in your own ears. You see the exact moment the last thread of sanity snaps in His eyes. Your heart drops into your stomach, a wave of nausea crashing over you. This is it. You are going to die here, alone, helpless and afraid. You hear the sound of the gun firing before you feel it. You fall from the window sill and slam your back into the dresser, crushing your backpack under your body. An intense burning tears through your side, hotter than fire as a loud scream tears your throat. You fall to the floor, blood darkening your shirt and pooling under you. _

_ Your side begins to go numb. Through partially lidded eyes, you watch as He puts the gun to his own head. A broken apology escapes His lips before it fires again. Soft sobs fall from your lips, tears clouding your vision. Everything you have ever known up to this point has come violently crashing down in front of you. _

_ The next thing you know, your house is ablaze. Your eyes close and you let the darkness take you. _

***

You shoot up in bed, suddenly wide awake and screaming. Your shoulder and side sting with the memory of being shot, the nightmare still fresh behind your eyes. You curl your knees up to your face, covering your eyes and sobbing. Your breathing becomes erratic, coming in gasps between sobs. You feel a hand gently touch your arm, and a soothing voice washes over you.

“hey, bud. you’re ok. nobody is going to hurt you. focus on your breathing.”

You do as the voice says, slowing your breath and grounding yourself. You finally uncurl from your ball, the occasionally hiccoughing. When you look at the source of the voice, you are met with a concerned-looking skeleton. A brief thought crosses your mind at how a skull can be so expressive, but it quickly disappears when a nurse hurries into the room and pushes the skeleton out of the way. She then injects something into your arm and helps you slowly lay back down, your shoulder becoming numb. She writes something on a clipboard, checking your vitals and muttering something into an intercom. 

“Where… where am I?” Your voice is quiet and hoarse, barely above a whisper. She looks at you with something you can only describe as pity.

“You are in the hospital my dear. Don’t worry, we will take good care of you. You should get some rest.” She pulls the blankets back up your body as your eyelids begin to droop. You see her talking to the skeleton before they both leave and you fall asleep.

***

_ Your sister’s pale face haunts you every time you close your eyes for months after that day. You wake up screaming from nightmares, calling for the family that isn’t there. You are alone in the world, with nowhere to run and nobody to turn to. Your so-called ‘friends’ turn you away, and you are hurt by those you thought you could trust. Your only companion is the voice in your head; telling you it will be ok, that you can get back at those who hurt you. You give the voice a name: _

_ Karma. _

***

When you wake up again, the room is cool and dimly lit. You silently wonder how long you were asleep. Looking around, you see a small vase of flowers sitting on the bedside table. A soft snore brings your attention to the chairs in the corner, one of which is occupied by a breathing blue lump.

“Who’s there?” you call. The lump stirs, slowly stretching out into the skeleton from earlier. Heavy lidded eyes blink slowly, a yawn filling the room. “You’re the one who helped me earlier, aren’t you? I appreciate it, but do I know you?”

A light blue blush dances across his skull. He stands up and walks closer to the bed “heh. sorry about that. the name’s sans.” He holds out his hand, and you hesitantly shake it. The room fills with the sound of wet fart, and you stare at his hand. A moment of tense silence hangs over the air, neither of you saying anything.

“Oh my god. Sans. Is that a whoopie cushion!?” You look at him with disbelief. He nods, barely concealing a shit-eating grin. You both burst out laughing. You laugh for a few minutes, the tense feeling suddenly lifted. “Ahaha! Ah! Ah- stomach cramp!” You stop laughing and grab your abdomen, trying to calm down. You wipe tears from your eyes, noticing Sans looking at you with concern. You tell him it’s normal for humans to hurt after laughing too hard, and he relaxes. Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“SANS, IS THE HUMAN OK?” A loud voice comes from the other side of the door, carrying easily through it.

“yeah bro, come on in. she’s awake now, so you can properly introduce yourself.” Sans looks at you and smiles, assuring you that his brother is a big softie. The door opens a crack, and a tall skeleton pokes his head in.

“ARE YOU SURE THAT IT IS OK FOR ME TO ENTER? I DO NOT WISH TO DISTURB ANYONE.” He looks nervous, still standing behind the door. You smile at how polite he seems, and chuckle lightly to yourself.

“It’s ok, you can come in. I don’t mind.” He hesitantly comes in, but perks up when you hold out your hand to him. He comes over and gently holds it in his gloves, examining it.

“HUMAN! ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF. I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! IT SEEMS YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN ACQUAINTED WITH MY BROTHER SANS… NO MATTER! I AM THE BETTER BROTHER!” He then starts laughing, a loud NYEH HEH HEH that makes you giggle. Soon, the entire room is full again with the sound of laughter. Your abdomen starts hurting again, and Sans gives his brother a slightly edited version of your explanation when he looks at you, confused yet concerned.

There’s another knock at the door, and you all quiet down. Sans goes over to open it, but he is shoved out of the way as Gwen comes bursting in. Another nurse stands in the hallway, looking slightly frazzled. Despite wearing slightly dirty scrubs, she still looks well put together.

“ ! Are you ok? What happened! I saw you wheeled in on a stretcher… I was so worried! I would have come sooner but there was an emergency-” She comes over to hug you, but makes sure to be careful to not touch your shoulder. You guess she probably looked at your file. When she lets go, you look around. Gwen is the only one who moved since the knock; everyone else looks startled, confused and a little annoyed. The nurse who is in the hallway clears his throat and speaks.

“I’m sorry to interrupt… your reunion, but we’re here to do a physical exam on Miss…” He looks down at his clipboard and scowls slightly. You assume he’s looking at your mouthful of a last name. “G. We need to ensure that she is recovering properly. I’m afraid I must ask you to wait in the hall until further notice.” He has a somber look, the others leaving without protest. Turning towards you, clipboard in hand, he asks you questions about how you feel.

“Like someone hit me in the shoulder with a truck. Or at least that is how it would feel, if the meds weren’t working. But right now, it’s only a dull ache.” Gwen raises the angle of the bed while he does this and helps you into a wheelchair, much quieter than usual. She is much more subdued than normal, and you realize that she’s in work mode. It’s strange, being wheeled around by another person. You wave to the others as you wheel past, deciding to observe your surroundings.

The hospital is painted a boring uniform beige, but there are photos and paintings hanging on the walls. Every so often, a fluorescent light flickers. You roll to a stop in front of a door labelled  _ Physicals _ . Gwen presses a button on the wall, the door quietly opening with a  _ swish _ . She wheels you in, stopping next to another bed. Inside is the sorts of things you find in the typical Family Doctor’s office, like a scale and those things they use for checking your blood pressure. There are other machines you don’t recognize as well. 

The checkup is fairly uneventful, just them confirming that you won’t be using your arm for a while. The bullet severed the tendon, so you will need to go through physiotherapy and have multiple surgeries. You are suddenly very glad that you are ambidextrous. With your left out of commission, you will need to get used to using your right arm again.

When you get back to your room, Sans is the only one still waiting. He seems preoccupied with something on his phone but looks up when you are wheeled back into the room. After Gwen and the Nurse say their goodbyes and leave, he pokes his head in the room.

“hey.” He seems nervous, rubbing the back of his skull with his hand. You wonder how long you were gone, your concept of time completely skewed from being in the hospital. You make a mental note to ask someone about getting your phone back.

“Hey. You doing ok? You seem nervous.” You watch him fiddle with the hem of his sweater, looking anywhere but you. His eyes finally land on your shoulder, a slight hint of guilt dimming the bright pupils. Looking at your lap, you explain what the doctors told you.

“i'm sorry. if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have taken a bullet to the shoulder. i wasn't careful and now you're hurt.” He stares at the floor, his head sagging down into his hands. A single tear hits the floor. You slowly get up, grunting in the process, and despite the protests of your arm and shoulder you gently hug him.

“It's not your fault. If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't be here at all.” You keep your voice soft, rubbing gentle circles on his back. “You saved my life, Sans. Yeah, I'm gonna be out of work for a bit, and I need to relearn to use this arm, but I'm alive. Because of you.” You feel him shudder and then relax underneath you, his arms gently hugging you back.

After a moment, you hobble back to the bed. Sans quietly thanks you and explains that he needs to go home to his brother, because it’s late and Papyrus has to have someone read him a bedtime story. You snicker at the thought of the tall skeleton sitting in his bed, Sans reading him a story. Sans smiles. After exchanging phone numbers, he goes to leave.

“Wait...” you call out to him. He stops by the door.

“what is it?” He seems a bit antsy, obviously wanting to go.

“What… what day is it today?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He pauses, checking his phone. “...today is August 15th.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pssh I totally didn't plan to release this today, what are you talking about? It's not like I was putting this off until the date of the anniversary just to make it more painful or anything

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on my tumblr here:
> 
> Viridian-Compass.tumblr.com
> 
> Feel free to come and ask me questions or talk about fandoms! I am in too many to count haha


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